


Exposure Therapy

by caterin



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: arachnophobia cw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 12:34:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6956647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caterin/pseuds/caterin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter Parker may just be starting to rival Wade Wilson in terms of unfuckability.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exposure Therapy

Wade woke up slowly and kept his eyes closed for another five minutes before bothering to open them. The ceiling above his bed was dotted with spiders.  
  
With a scream, he launched himself out of bed and to the other side of his bedroom. Safely out from under the danger zone, he appraised it from the doorway.  
  
[Sweet mother of Jesus.]  
  
The walls above the bed and to the sides of it were crawling with spiders. Only, not crawling literally with them, because they were all staying still. It looked like brown mould had broken out on the walls. Peter, still in bed, was only just awakening.  
  
"Wade, what's...?" slurred Peter.  
  
"Petey, I want you to come over here," Wade said urgently. "Don't look at the ceiling. Or walls."  
  
With a deep, relaxed exhalation, Peter sat up in Wade's bed and looked around. His eyes went wide and he twisted round to look behind him. Wade could hear the pops of Peter's shoulder joints, unused from sleep. Finally, in a useless gesture, Peter snagged his nerd-glasses with the non-prescription lenses and put them on, then looked round again.  
  
"Mother Hubbard, Wade, there are like a hundred spiders around our bed!"  
  
"Yeah??" Wade's voice hit falsetto even though he wasn't trying for it.  
  
"Where did they all come from?" Peter flipped back the duvet and rolled out of bed. Wade spied two or three hitherto unnoticed spiders on the sides of the mattress. A spider on the ceiling lost its footing. It peeled off, legs wiggling wildly for a second, before it dropped and bounced off Peter's shoulder onto the bed.  
  


* * *

  
"But are there any on me? Are they on me?"  
  
Wade was turning round on the spot, naked. His clothes had been discarded post-haste after he had exited the bedroom. Peter and Blind Al were seated at the table, Peter pointedly not looking in Wade's direction.  
  
"I thought you called yourself Spider-Man, what you getting surprised at all these spiders turning up for?" Blind Al said to Peter.  
  
"I can't-- I can't get the perspective right to see if there's any on me," Wade said in frustration. "It's too far away, I need a close-up."  
  
"I'm not an _actual_ spider-man, I mean I'm, I can't summon spiders? It's Ant-Man who can summon ants," Peter explained, scratching his eyebrow. His eyes flicked sideways in a nervous double-dart of movement at Wade. "You don't have any on you, Wade."  
  
"And what the hell does Ant-Man do with a load of tiny ants?" Blind Al wrinkled her brow.  
  
Peter lifted his hands in the air in an exaggerated shrug and opened his mouth to reply when a rising yell from Wade interrupted. Wade was pointing frantically at his bedroom door. From underneath, a veritable pool of spiders was beginning to seep out. They swept uniformly towards the kitchen and towards Peter, triangular-bodied housespiders sprinting ahead of the others. Wade scrabbled with the front door and swung it wide, running out into the street. It banged shut behind him.  
  
"That man is an embarrassment," said Blind Al.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't and won't stop thinking of a Wade Wilson who is intensely arachnophobic and whose hands-down favourite hero is also the Spider-Man. I love it.
> 
> P.S. Real exposure therapy not actually pictured in this fanwork.


End file.
